


All of Your Toys

by GirlKnownSomewhere



Category: The Monkees (Band), The Monkees (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Band Fic, Drugs, F/M, Ficlet, Heavy Petting, One Shot, idk this ended up a lil racier than i usually do heh, or more like heavy hugging?, unexpected sexiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 04:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20285446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlKnownSomewhere/pseuds/GirlKnownSomewhere
Summary: Peter is a bad influence on Ann's friend Genie, and Ann is not amused.





	All of Your Toys

**Author's Note:**

> Directly inspired by this ~hi-larious article written by Genie Franklyn
> 
> https://monkees.coolcherrycream.com/articles/1968/03/tiger-beat/genies-adventures-in-groovyland
> 
> The issue was published in March, but I set the fic in July because I thought it would make more sense at this point in time for the fic version of Ann's and Peter's friendship.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Monkees or Ann Moses' likeness

One-shot: All of Your Toys

Laurel Canyon, July 1968

Ann’s car screeched to a halt across the street from her friend Peter’s homey residence in the easy going neighborhood. She couldn’t believe he allowed this to happen. She’s known for a while that he could be a lowkey troublemaker and find ways to have some wild, rebellious fun, but she wasn’t expecting him to drag her own friends into it. She quickly slammed her car door closed and didn’t even bother to lock it as she hurried to the front door and entered unannounced.

“Peter!”

Ann shouted his name once more before finding him in the living room with one of his keyboards. He glanced up, pleasantly surprised at her impromptu appearance. “Annie! Did we plan something today? I don’t remember—”

“Did you give my best friend a pot brownie?” She abruptly asked sternly.

He froze.

“Did you??”

He tilted his head as if he was about to shake it, but then paused. “…Maybe…” The word caused him to try to hold back a smile forming. “Why? Jealous?” He asked, not bothering to hide his grin growing in coyness. 

She let out a sound between a snort and a huff. “No! In fact, I’m annoyed. I didn’t send Genie over here yesterday for you guys to get high. You two were supposed to brainstorm or do something—something family appropriate,” she emphasized. “—For her next guest article. That’s due next week! What am I supposed to do with a story involving drugs now?”

“Hey, it’s a brownie, not PCP,” Peter clarified as a defense.

She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t even one of my columns either, Ralph edits Genie’s pieces. Now I have to spend a day multi-tasking my own pages and coming up with some crap to cover what you guys did. I can’t believe you let this happen,” she ended disappointedly.

“It’s not like I tricked her, she asked what the smell was, and I told her brownies. Next thing I knew, I turned around and she was already taking a bite,” he claimed. “And of course, I didn’t want to be a bad host…” 

Ann closed her eyes and shook her head. “Peter, I really, really am trying to be open-minded about all the…alternative living hippies do, but this is a real inconvenience for me right now,” she stressed.

“Like I said, I wasn’t planning on giving them to her, it just…happened, heh,” he reminded.

“You could’ve just…made the batch today instead of yesterday, you know,” she suggested.

“Technically Christine and Karen made them. I just took them out of the oven,” Peter revealed. “And then they came back for some of the fun too…”

Ann let out another irritated breath before heading back to the front door. “Great, thanks a lot,” she commented sarcastically. Peter followed with just as much intent.

“Hey now, let me try to make it up to you,” he offered. She turned away from the door and waited for his suggestion, though not impressed. “How about we have a little pick-me-up. Like…a brownie?” He asked while failing to hold in a laugh.

Ann abruptly opened the door at that. “Screw you,” she shot back as she stormed back to her car. 

“Annie, come on—” But she didn’t hear his possible plea as her car door closed and she turned on the engine.

Four hours later she heard a knock on her apartment door while in the middle of reading a paperback copy of John Beagle’s **The Last Unicorn**. She marked her page before leaving the couch and opening the door to find Peter in front of her again. He was in the same yellow T-shirt and jeans from earlier, but now a pair of brown aviator sunglasses covered his eyes. She recognized them as the same matching pair Peter and Mike bought while touring last summer. He smiled warmly, while casually leaning an arm against the door frame. “Hi…”

Ann just stood still.

“…Can I come in for a bit?” He asked slightly cautiously.

She responded by opening the door wider. He carefully stepped inside and took off his sunglasses to let them hang on his pants’ front pocket. After she closed the door, he pointed lightly at his eye level and jested, “You can see I’m totally sober at the moment.” She snorted. 

He kept his smile and looked around the small home for a moment. “Ah, I forgot you had a great view from your place. I should really stop by more—”

“Peter, I’ve already moved on since this morning. You don’t have to play nice,” Ann revealed nonchalantly.

“Hey, I like playing nice!” He insisted cheerfully. “But really, I came over to apologize…even though I don’t think I actually did anything requiring an apology…”

Ann rolled her eyes as she closed the front door and walked back into her living room. He moved closer to her before quickly pulling her into his lap right as he sat down on the couch. Ann let him hug her out of habit and just sat leisurely as he wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his chin on her left shoulder. She sighed as her body reminded her how good it felt to be held by him. She heard him let out his own breath as he closed his eyes and gave her mid-region a squeeze. “I hate when I’m the cause of you feeling down.”

She turned her head slightly to his direction. “Yeah, well, I really hate that I’ve had to scold my ‘fave rave’ twice this summer,” she retorted in a vocal mockup of her Tiger Beat persona.

He sighed again and gently tossed all of her hair over her right shoulder. “I am very sorry you have to rearrange your week’s schedule because of our…mix-up. Truly.”

She closed her eyes tranquilly and leaned her head back onto his own shoulder. “Thanks…”

The two friends sat contently for a long moment. Ann then felt her heart begin to race a beat faster when she could suddenly feel Peter’s breath near her ear. She anticipated her arousal might be about to grow and could tell Peter was already there. She felt her body warm up slightly as his hand softly lingered down to her thigh. But the second she felt his lips on her neck, she forced herself to carefully extract his hands from her body and stood up. Peter exhaled deeply and collapsed onto the couch cushions in defeat. Ann straightened her short-sleeved, grey mini-dress and ran a hand through her hair as coolly as she could while turning around to face him. “I think we should call it a day.”

He sighed and leaned up, trying to hide disappointment with a smile. “You sure?”

She nodded.

He gave a slight nod of his own as he stood and grabbed his sunglasses from his pocket. Ann followed him back to the front door neutrally before he turned and offered: “Apologies again.” He placed his glasses back on and grabbed the door handle. “Here’s hoping the worst I did was instigate a sugar addiction.”

Ann let a lopsided grin form in minor amusement. “Aren’t druggies hooked on sugar anyway?”

“Oh…well, you know, that’s usually heroin addicts…” Peter claimed before opening the door.

She shook her head and casually placed her hands on her hips. “Talk to you later,” he parted with and strolled back to his car while Ann gave a half-hearted wave.

Around 6:00 PM two weeks later, Ann’s phone ran while she was finishing up organizing her notes and planner on her living room table. “Hello?” She asked as she leaned over to the wall and answered the device.

“Uh, why did you change the brownie to dog food? I don’t have a dog…” She recognized Peter’s voice.

“Best I could do on short notice.” When there wasn’t a response after about five seconds, she added: “Have fun naming your new imaginary pet,” before hanging up with a smirk.


End file.
